Wet
by Insidiously
Summary: Castiel had a habit of watching the Winchesters at all points in their days - Even their most private. One morning when Dean thinks he's alone everyones favorite angel comes out to play.. Rated for sexual content and voyeurism. Destiel.


_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own nor am affiliated with Supernatural in anyway. All characters belong to the amazing Eric Kripke. I take the blame for the twisted ideas._

**Why, hello! Welcome to my first ever Destiel Smut-Fest! So, this is just a little story about the ways Castiel uses his powers of invisibility before Sam and Dean figure out he has them. Rated purely for sexual content. Enjoy and review, let me know if I should write another story (maybe a multi-chapter). Thanks, loves!**

Castiel would be the first to admit that being an Angel of the Lord had its perks. Every one of God's servants had a favorite, of course. Gabriel coveted the ability to create illusions out of thin air, Anna enjoyed her ability to move great distances at will and there was a power that the Angel of Thursday preferred as well: His ability to disappear. Castiel had become particularly fond of the gift ever since his duties had brought him down on Earth to play guardian over the Winchester Brothers. Prior to such a time he had very little use for it, since the skill did not cloak the eyes of other angels. It had been rather useless. But now there was rarely a day that went by when Cas didn't use the vanishing act in one way or another.

On this particular morning the angel was doing just that. Castiel had grown accustomed to hovering invisible in the bathroom of whichever motel the brothers had been visiting on a particular day. Some would call this tendency a weakness but Cas just thought of it as a reward. During the hour of eight A.M near every morning the younger of the two sons, Sam Winchester, would leave his brother for a short walk to get take away coffee. It was then that the angel got his treat.

Castiel wasn't quite sure why he had such a fascination with watching Dean in the shower each day. At first he had chalked the odd behavior up to morbid curiosity but as the weeks of watching grew he knew that it couldn't be the cause. And so Cas watches him that morning with wide eyes. Watches as the Hunter strolls into the dusty bathroom with sleep still in his eyes and hair sticking in ever direction, doesn't bat an eye when Dean brushes his teeth and gargles… and when it comes time for the man to strip down to his natural form, why, that's the time Castiel watches most of all.

Dean remained in front of the mirror for a few moments, unaware that he shared the room with another being. He was studying himself, Cas thought. The conclusion was drawn by Dean's swiping eyes over his own body, lingering on the deep red welt of a handprint tucked on his shoulder. Castiel felt his hand tingle. The man sighed deeply and pressed a finger to the damaged skin, a slight smile playing on his lips. Without another glance he turned, reaching into the enamel cage to switch on the hot water.

The angel's eyes followed him. When the air was filled with steam Dean stepped into the shower, shutting the clear glass over his exposed body. Much to Castiel's relief it blocked none of the view. The hunter always began with his hair; scrubbing and massaging lightly, filtering conditioner through his short locks. Cas grinned as the man began his routine as usual. Next was the torso and arms. There was more soap then, more lathering, more bubbles: All remained the same as any other day. Until it came time to rinse. The angel watched as Dean paused in position, letting the temped water fall over knots of muscle. Then his hand moved downward.

Dean's eyes slowly shut as he began to move his hand back and forth rhythmically over himself. The angel's eyes flew downwards and he focused on the erect member that the man was gliding his hand upon. At once, Castiel felt a strange sensation below his own belt. This was new.

He returned his attention to Dean who had picked up the pace. To the angel he looked lost, lost in the movement of his own body's thrusts. Cas exhaled slowly, his mouth watering. He moved his own hand to the seam of his restricting slacks, feeling the hardness that had erected there. With only a hint of hesitation he pulled at the zipper, setting his hand free to mimic the motions Dean was exemplifying. Castiel hooked his grasp around his own cock, stroking slightly. He felt the effect at once.

Across from the angel, Dean was now lost in his own world. The man was moaning now – the duel sensations of the beating water and his own slick hand nearly too much for him. Castiel had taken the expression his friend was wearing and was savoring it, picturing it in his own mind as his pushed his own pace forward, matching Dean's. Cas wasn't sure what this was, what he was doing, but he knew if felt better than anything he had ever experienced before. He could feel his breath shortening.

Another heavy gasp radiated from Dean's lips and he arched his neck. A string of sounds and words came tumbling out of his mouth in a way that Castiel found incredibly sexy. The angel was on the verge of stifling his own moan, in fact, when Dean said it.

"Oh my God, Cas."

It was a simple sentence but unmistakable in meaning. The angel felt his movement falter as he studied the Hunter's face. It was contorted in lust and ecstasy, both feelings that Dean imagined were a product of Cas' touch. Castiel felt himself twitch in the palm of his hand and hurriedly resumed the stroke. Dean was moving efficiently now, punctuating each stroke of his hardened member with a gasp or a whine for Castiel and Cas found himself willing to comply, more than willing to wrap his hand or lips along Dean and kiss and suck until he was weak in the knees. But he was too lost in his movement to do such thing. The angel bit hard on his own lip, keeping his callings of lust for entering the sound of the room and disturbing the symphony he was already so tuned to.

Castiel opened his eyes just in time to witness Dean's climax. As the boy's hips bucked him forward into his own grip the angel felt a wave of pleasure radiate from his core to his limbs. He watched Dean work himself, milking every single quivering shake of orgasm for all that it was worth. It was enough to drive Castiel over the edge. Before he could stop himself, Cas was leaning on the wall with closed eyes, his entire body shaking with a power so strong he would've thought himself possessed if he could concentrate on anything but the hardness in his hand. The finish raked over Castiel's body over and over. In hindsight it was a miracle that he had managed to stay quiet.

As the waves of pleasure subsided into reality, Cas opened his eyes. Dean was out of the shower now, looking no different than he did before entering. The angel let go of a breath he hadn't known he was holding and admired the older Winchester boy, thanking him silently for the great gift he had given him that regular morning. He promised, internally, to one day return the favor.


End file.
